Travel: Bethel Jacobs, the grandfather of the author, was a civil engineer, who was finding it difficult in 1910 to obtain employment.
Eventually he landed a job in remote South America with the British-owned Antofagasta (Chile) and Bolivia Railway Company. By this time he had become infatuated with his Irish first cousin, Sophie, to whom he became engaged less than two weeks before he set sail for a three-year stint to the wilds of Bolivia and Chile. She was the sister of the eminent gynaecologist, Bethel Solomons, and of the well-known painter Estelle. His devotion to Sophie was such that throughout his sojourn he wrote regularly and frequently to her while she "waited like Penelope". By the time he returned, in August 1914, the first World War had erupted and it was not until 1917 that Bethel, as a survivor of Gallipoli and other horrors, married Sophie in a hospital chapel - "there was no honeymoon, just a slow recovery from traumas and nightmares, and Bethel's eventual return to duty in July 1917". This unusual courtship resulted in an intense correspondence, complemented by a fine cache of photographs, which found its haven in the attic of their home in Hampstead Garden Suburb, even if Sophie, disappointingly, had destroyed her letters to Bethel.
These papers are the driving force behind the author's determination to retrace his grandfather's footsteps in South America. But while the book is an account of the author's adventures, his grandparents' presence is his guiding star and gives his journey an overriding purpose.
He tells of the emergence of the first Jacobs family member of note, namely "Gentleman Jacobs of Hull" and from Hull to Hampstead Garden Suburb the foundations for the odyssey are laid. However, apart from the letters the author discovers little about his grandfather and somewhat pessimistically notes that "unlike his forebears in Hull, [ Bethel] seemed a person destined to be forgotten by history". This book alters that prognosis.
As a seasoned traveller, the author made wise contacts in London, prior to his departure, which he knew might be useful to open unknown doors in Antofagasta, Oruro and other places with beautiful sounding names. He follows, with ease, the advice "to be disposed to trust everyone, and to accept that every person, whatever his race or creed, is fundamentally the same, and governed by the same set of emotions . . ."
The unlikely doors open with apparent ease. As he has "been obsessed with all things Spanish since childhood", his mastery of Spanish enables him to reach areas which would be denied to others. In addition, he enjoys staying in places which are far from smart, which evoke descriptions such as "Your nostrils are assailed by the dank stale smells of a place only fitfully occupied. You long for what my grandfather so often longed for during his years in South America - marmalade on thick, buttered slices of toast". He is a traveller, not a tourist.
Few of his readers will probably have the opportunity of, and most will probably be too frightened to visit the out-of-the-way places he describes. He ignites a curiosity about the 20th-century history of these unfamiliar sounding places, which lie in an often inhospitable landscape and which were exploited by Western Europe for their mineral wealth. However the story of Bethel and Sophie provides the impetus that makes the author pursue his goal so elegantly.
John McBratney is a board member of the Tyrone Guthrie Centre at Annaghmakerrig and is a barrister
Ghost Train through the Andes: On My Grandfather's Trail in Chile and Bolivia By Michael Jacobs John Murray, 307pp. £25